


this isn't a shakespeare play

by isloremipsumafterall



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 06:12:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3518393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isloremipsumafterall/pseuds/isloremipsumafterall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Constance's students think she's dating the English teacher, Porthos. They might be right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this isn't a shakespeare play

“Kids giving you trouble again?” Porthos intoned, tilting his head towards Constance’s bandaged fingers.

“First sewing lesson for the new students, some needed help holding the fabric and well,” She wiggled her fingers with a small smile, “The problem with teaching with needles, as you well may know.”

Pothos shifted on his feet, ducking his head in embarrassment. A few weeks ago he had approached the fashion teacher asking for help with a rip he had gotten in his favourite bandana, it had been made clear that Porthos’ fingers weren’t quite made for stitching.

“I’m only kidding.” She told him, resting a hand on his arm and squeezing lightly. “Besides I quite enjoyed trying to teach you.”

“Teaching Porthos what?” Aramis asked as the Spanish teacher stepped in, smoothing down his moustache with a twinkle in his eye that made it obvious what he was thinking about what Constance could have been teaching Porthos.

“Never you mind.” Constance snapped at Aramis, she rolled her eyes when he exchanged looks with Porthos.

Luckily Aramis was distracted by Adele, the French teacher, in the corner.

“So what’s your syllabus today then?” She asked him, pulling out two containers of food from her bag and sliding one towards Porthos who accepted it with glee.

“Hamlet, getting the kids to compare it to the Lion King and the differences in modern media.” Porthos said right before he dug in.

Constance eyed him, taking in the muscles that shifted under Porthos’ shirt as he moved, the reason why most people assumed that Porthos was the gym teacher at the school.

Before he could catch her looking though she quickly averted her gaze.

“Sounds like the kids will love that.” She told him, smiling brightly. “Though also an excuse to watch movies?”

He grinned unrepentantly and she shook her head, digging into the other container of food that she had cooked.

A year ago she might have used the excuse that she cooked too much and that’s why she offered it to Porthos, in truth she enjoyed how delighted he got when he saw her cooked meals and praised them once he was done, it was a little self-indulgent but she always was happy to see it.

Of course since that time she and Porthos had gotten close enough she no longer had to; carpooling in the mornings and nights, often eating dinner at each other’s house and working on their individual syllabus and markings.

For a long time until she dated d’Artagnan people thought she was dating Porthos and now that she and d’Artagnan had broken up the rumours picked up again.

Except this time she found it would actually be welcome, Porthos had always been charming and welcoming and certainly attractive with the scar over his eye that added a hint of mystery.

(He fell out of a tree trying to rescue Flea’s cat, she’d pulled that story from him one drinking night and laughed herself to sleep with it)

Chewing on a carrot she tilted her head to look at Porthos, wondering if he’d mind the change in their relationship either.

~~

Wednesday Porthos didn’t teach the same period that she did so he would slip into her class and help out, claiming that he was trying to learn better so that Constance wouldn’t forever be stuck helping him with mending things.

“I don’t mind Porthos.” She told him as they cleaned up the scraps the students had left on the table in a rush. “You ought to know that by now.”

He shrugged, fiddling with the fabric he’d picked up.

“Didn’t want to take advantage.” He claimed, throwing the fabric into the bin with the rest, unsalvageable as it was.

She caught a glimpse of him from under her bangs and hummed in consideration at the serious look on his face.

“Well thank you for that.” She finally said, straightening and stepping around the table and into his space to lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s appreciated.”

She didn’t step back right away, meaning she could see the widening of his brown eyes, looking down at her and his mouth opened just a little, struggling for something to say.

A giggle from the doorway drew their attention however and Constance flushed in annoyance when she saw some of her students standing there.

“Forgot my books Miss Bonacieux.” Celine told her with a smirk on her face and nodded her head in Porthos’ direction. “Mr. Du Vallon.”

Fleur grabbed Celine’s arm and pulled her away, shooting her cousin an apologetic look and for the thousandth time Constance was grateful that she was a student at the school.

“Well that will get the rumour mill going again.” She grouched, sighing.

Porthos grinned at her.

“What?” She asked him.

“May as well really get it going if it is.”

A loud smack filled the air as she hit his shoulder, clearly not hurting him from the way his grin just widened; she tried not to laugh but it was hard not to when he raised his eyebrows dramatically in mockery of a leer.

“That’s dreadful. How on earth did you get Alice to date you?”

“’M charming.” Porthos told her.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

~~

When Valentine’s day rolled around Constance considered her many options to drown her students in work so as not to hear them ask questions about what she and Porthos would be doing that night.

“Absolutely nothing Jeanne.” She said through gritted teeth, rubbing at her forehead as she had been doing constantly that day.

Perhaps it was that they knew that after that her temper would flare and they’d be buried with homework not just from her but from every teacher she could rope into doing it that had them quieting down.

Her headache still hadn’t left though by the time Porthos stepped into her class at the end of the day to get her for their ride home.

“How many questions did you get?” She asked as they stepped out into the hallway.

“A few.” Porthos replied in a way that she bet he had been pestered all day as well, “Got more about how the kids thought we should be reading Romeo and Juliet this week instead of Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

She let Porthos’ deep voice wash over her in the car ride home, not at all surprised when they pulled into his house.

Both of them dropped their marking off on the table at the front, slipping their shoes off and wordlessly working next to each other for dinner where Porthos cut the vegetables up for Constance’s stirfry and then collapsed on the couch next to each other.

“How about this?” Porthos asked, flipping to a channel playing the Empire Strikes Back. “It’s like a love story.”

Constance rolled her eyes but let it slide, just nodding her okay and slipping into the spot next to Porthos to curl into his warmth, not at all surprised when his arm fell to her shoulders.

She dozed for a minute before her eyes snapped open.

“Porthos.” She began, getting a grunt of acknowledgement back, “We’re dating aren’t we?”

Beneath her he froze.

“Could be.” He said slowly.

She raised her head from where it rested on his chest, shifting to face him. There was nothing else she could say when she met his eyes, breathing out slowly and leaning in to kiss him properly.

His lips were chapped but warm and he drew her closer, one arm slipping behind her back as she raised her own hands to cup his face.

When she pulled away she kept his gaze, smiling softly.

“Good.” She told him and grinned, “There’s just one thing…”

“Don’t tell Aramis or the kids?”

“Never.”

She saw Porthos patented grin right before she was pulled back down again.


End file.
